The Intricate Complexity of Puzzles
by mollylyn5
Summary: A young boy in Walnut Grove, Jesse Wilkinson, has a severe form of what we now know to be autism, and Laura feels sorry for him. Will Dr. Kantor from Minneapolis be able to help him? Takes place during Season 6.


**This story is dedicated to my friend's brother. I hope you enjoy it - review? :)**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own Little House, the books or the show.**

The little boy never went anywhere without his doll.

The stuffed cowboy wore a bright yellow shirt too cheery for its own good, and had boots that made the doll inaccurate, as they were still shiny without dust. And the little boy's fist was almost always clutching him. It was a wonder the fibers were still separate from his skin, joked many in town.

His mother, Kate Wilkinson, tried to ignore the jokes and stares of other passerby as she walked with her five-year-old son into town. Well, she was walking. Jesse's eyes wandered, and Kate was continually looking back and pulling on his hand to keep him from running off to heaven-knows-where.

"Hello, Mrs. Wilkinson!" a small voice called, and Kate turned to see Carrie Ingalls playing with her classmates, and siblings Laura and Albert, in the schoolyard. They waved.

"Hello, children," she replied as positively as she could muster. Jesse had been having an extremely difficult day, already throwing two tantrums that morning. Now, he was finally a bit calmer, so Kate took the small opportunity to head into town.

The thing was, was that Jesse had not been a fussy baby. In fact, up until he was about two years old, he was the happiest, liveliest child you'd ever met. His face lit up with joy whenever his mother or father walked into the room, and he loved to sing and dance and play pretend.

But now…

Kate sighed and entered the doctor's office, Jesse in tow. Dr. Baker looked up and smiled. "Good afternoon, Kate."

"And likewise. Oh, Doc, he still hasn't changed. It's not just a phase." Kate bit her lip to keep from crying. She knew Dr. Baker could cure common colds and sprained wrists, but what was different about Jesse was that he seemed to be injured in his mind. And there was no bottle of medicine or tightly wrapped sling to fix it.

"I know, Kate. And that's why I've talked to another doctor – in Minneapolis – about Jesse. He thinks he may be able to help him."

"How?"

"Well, I don't know for sure. But Dr. Kantor – that's his name – knows of other children like Jesse. Children who aren't communicating, who haven't seemed to develop properly, and who also show some of the same characteristics as Jesse. For instance, one of his patients is only nine, but can solve almost any complicated mathematics problem you ask her."

"And Jesse's still doing those jigsaw puzzles." Kate looked down fondly at the soft, cornfield-colored waves covering her child's head, wondering how a child so perfect could also be so broken. "One thousand, ten thousand, even one million pieces, without ever making a mistake. He just sets all of the pieces face up, and can put the puzzle together correctly in under an hour. That's where Kurt is now, buying some more puzzles in Mankato."

Dr. Baker smiled. "Well, Jesse does seem to have above average intelligence."

"If only he could speak," Kate said wistfully. "If only he would hug me, tell me he loved me–"

She lowered her head, desperately trying not to cry. Not here, not now. Jesse began flapping his right hand, squeezing his cowboy tighter and tighter in the other.

"I'm not so sure I want Dr. Kantor to come, though. Lord knows I would do anything to help Jesse, but he doesn't need pity – and we couldn't afford to pay him besides."

"I've already arranged for him to arrive on the seventeenth. But if you insist, I can cancel."

"No. No, you mustn't do that. I, um, I have to pick up some items at the mercantile. Thank you."

Dr. Baker handed Jesse a peppermint stick, then watched them leave. He wanted to say something to Kate, bring up some words of comfort, but all that was left inside him was the raw, helpless feeling of desperation.

* * *

"Eat your supper, Laura," Caroline prodded from the kitchen, pouring Charles another cup of fresh coffee.

Laura sighed. "Ma…"

"What is it, Half-Pint?" Charles asked, taking the cup of coffee from Caroline.

"What's wrong with Jesse Wilkinson? Why doesn't he go to school?"

Caroline sat back down and swallowed hard. "Well, no one really knows for sure, Laura. You see, Kate and I used to be good friends. But then Jesse… you may have heard that he didn't use to be… the way he is now. Poor child."

"Kate sure does love him though, I'll give her that," Charles acknowledged. "They took him to all of the doctors they could afford, but they just don't know."

"But it's not _fair_," Laura cried. "Why can't he talk? Why can't somebody help him?"

"No one _knows_, Laura," Charles said again.

"I just pray the new doctor will be able to help him," Caroline sighed.

"Me too," Laura said quietly. "May I be excused?"

"Only after you finish your peas," said Charles, smiling.

"Yes, sir." She looked up at him and tried to smile back.

* * *

That night, Laura shifted under her quilt, trying to get to sleep.

She didn't know why her mind was so fixated on Jesse Wilkinson. It just frustrated her, the way she wished he could be like the other children. It was so sad to watch him, to see him flapping his hands and holding his stuffed cowboy. And Mrs. Wilkinson was such a nice lady, it seemed wrong to put all that burden on her.

Oh, Laura knew it wasn't Jesse's fault. But that was the trouble. She wanted to know whose it was. When her older sister, Mary, went blind, it had been because of scarlet fever. And although she had wallowed in self-pity for awhile, she was still the same sister, though a bit more mature. She talked and laughed and told jokes, and Laura loved her all the same. So why was Jesse's disability so different? So… limiting?

Laura finally found herself getting drowsy. But before she finally went to sleep, she said a small prayer. One just for Jesse, and his mother. She knew Jesse had been created the way God thought best, so she didn't pray for him to be magically cured. She just prayed for them to have the one thing they'd been lacking.

Happiness.


End file.
